


Swap Shop

by unoriginal_liz



Category: Life with Derek
Genre: Bodyswap, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-21
Updated: 2009-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-31 14:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3981466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unoriginal_liz/pseuds/unoriginal_liz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Funny thing.  It's always just about ninety minutes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swap Shop

**Author's Note:**

> Written for another cliche bingo prompt - bodyswap/bodyshare. 
> 
> Supposed to eventually be super serious and angsty, because I was never going to swap them back. But I got bored and never got a chance to board the super-angsty train, so it stayed stuck in Freaky Friday 'this is probably going to work out eventually' land.

Everyone knows how it happens. Take your pick – magic fortune cookies, simultaneous wishes, arguments in front of statues of ancient gods that have nothing better to do than mess with mortals’ self-perceptions…

The list goes on, but every explanation is just as paper-thin and scientifically unsound.

But that’s okay, because the how isn’t the important thing in those kind of movies. It’s about walking a mile in someone else’s shoes, learning understanding and tolerance…and most importantly – finding enough wacky misunderstandings to fill ninety minutes of screentime.

Funny thing. It’s always just about ninety minutes.

*****

Casey makes Derek shower with a black sleeping mask over his eyes. And she stays in the bathroom to make sure he does it.

“You know, with you being in here…I’m _still_ looking at you naked,” Derek points out, groping for the shampoo.

“No,” she disagrees, handing it to him, “ _I’m_ looking at _me_ naked.” Then she yelps in surprise, and says, “Derek – your body is _disgusting_!”

“That is a natural biological impulse and has nothing to do with you,” Derek hastily clarifies.

From there, things quickly get derivative. When Derek feels a ( _male_ ) pair of hands cover his eyes in the school hallway, and a ( _male_ ) voice say, “Guess who?” and a ( _male! male! male!_ ) pair of lips touch his cheek, he reacts instinctively, and brings his elbow back sharply, leaving Truman a wheezing, hunched over bundle in the middle of the corridor.

“What are you doing?” he demands.

“I was saying hello to my girlfriend,” Truman chokes out, in between gulping breaths. Casey’s body has really sharp elbows.

“Well – don’t!” he says, in a high, panicky voice that he both recognizes…and doesn’t.

It’s a telling sign of how freakish Casey is anyway, that Truman doesn’t insist on an explanation for the fact that his girlfriend (for all he knows) has just assaulted him in the school hallway. Instead, when he straightens up, he asks, “Come on – don’t I get at least one kiss?”

“No,” Derek says firmly. “There will be no more kissing. _Ever_.”

This seems to affect Truman more than the smackdown. “What? Why?”

Luckily, Derek has the perfect explanation. “Because I’m Casey, and I’m weird like that,” he says, before turning and attempting to make his way to class without falling over, newly sympathetic to Casey’s klutzy tendencies. It’s _hard_ to move normally with a different centre of gravity.

*****

Okay, if you really insist – this is how it happens.

They’re just as clueless and unaware of what’s about to go down as the idiots in imminent body-swap scenarios always are. But in their defence – not to engage in unthinking discrimination here, but…you expect certain things from your basic switcheroo. You expect – as mentioned – Chinese fortune cookies, ancient statues (generally from other more exotic cultures), and cryptic, mystical clairvoyant-type people.

They don’t get _any_ of those things.

It’s him, her and Emily, when it was supposed to be just him and Emily. Or possibly, her and Emily. Either way, it’s a recipe for conflict, and they’re master chefs, and they just keep on turning up the temperature on the pressure cooker, even after Emily makes her way to the bathroom, excusing herself in a tone of voice that suggests she’s considering ditching them both.

“Just because you’re dating Emily doesn’t give you the right to” –

“Date her?”

“To _monopolise_ her. Well, guess what? Your ‘Derekness’ isn’t going to work this time. This time, you don’t get what you want.”

“Right – because as usual, your ‘Caseyness’ insists on the right to make _everyone_ miserable – including Emily.”

“She’s _my_ best friend – and need I remind you, she’s _been_ my best friend since way before you decided you liked her.”

“So you’ve had lots of time to do the whole best-friends lets-braid-our-hair-and-eat-ice-cream schtick,” he points out. “Looking at it like that – it’s my turn.”

At this point the waitress clears her throat and remarks, “Wow, you two sure seem to want what the other one has,” as she deposits the basket of bread between them.

Which doesn’t even make sense, but what the hell about this whole plotline _ever_ does?

It doesn’t sound that cryptic – she sounds like she’s just making conversation. And she doesn’t make any more remarks, cryptic or otherwise. She doesn’t stay to hear them argue that she’s completely wrong.

For the love of lazy TV tropes – she’s _not even Asian_.

And the bread’s not even special bread – just ordinary small white rolls. No weird seeds, no strange taste, _nothing_.

Still, five minutes later, just as Emily returns, they both find themselves rushing desperately for the restrooms, being violently sick while around them, the world does its best impression of the inside of a washing machine during the spin cycle.

But when the stomach-clenching, gut-churning nausea passes…

…yeah, the end result is Freaky Friday familiar.

*****

So obviously, there is a lot of arguing – and it’s beyond weird to see a Casey freakout in his body, his face scrunching up into Casey-expressions and his voice whining surreal Casey-words (“Derek! Truman and I are at a very delicate stage in our relationship…you’ve probably ruined everything!”).

The central conflict goes something like –

“But that’s the same day as the big poetry reading!”

“Yeah, sorry, but my body’s got a prior engagement, and needs to D-Rock it out at Dimi’s party so that Emily’s parents won’t hate me anymore. You need to cancel. And, FYI, big poetry reading? Talk about your oxymaroons.”

“I can’t cancel. I’ve already agreed to recite some original pieces. This is a huge deal to me, Derek! I can’t just pull out!”

“And there’s no way I’m standing up there and reading your crap. Or _barking_ it, as the case may be.”

“Well, fine! But in that case, I’m not playing your stupid songs for Dimi’s party.”

*****

Maybe it’s down to what they don’t do. Or...what they do do.

They go back to the restaurant to talk to the waitress. So far, so scripted.

Except…they don’t really have much of a description to work with. They were focused on their argument, after all, and she didn’t have any distinguishing characteristics that indelibly imprinted upon their memories in the brief second it took for her to put down the bread basket.

If they had known they were about to be Freaky Fridayed, it would have been a different story, but as it is…

“Um,” Casey says, waving Derek’s arms, “She was…average height. I think. Brown hair…maybe? Or – or blonde!”

“She wasn’t Asian,” Derek contributes, and Casey glares at him. “Stop making me look like an airhead,” she mutters.

The manager isn’t helpful, and even though they claim a table for two and stake out the restaurant for several hours, they don’t see her. Chances are, even if they _did_ , they probably wouldn’t recognize her.

Here’s where they start to ad-lib. They tell people. The first one isn’t their fault, because sudden bodyswap in the middle of a lunchdate is traumatizing, and Casey’s the kind of girl who freaks out over misaligned cutlery. The hysterics are inevitable.

And a Casey freakout in Derek’s body is…both spectacular and convincing. It does the job for Emily, anyway.

Maybe that transgression can be overlooked. But they go for broke and tell the entire fam. Okay, granted, this isn’t necessary, because while some members are more observant than others, none of them (except possibly Marti), would ever choose ‘body-swap’ to explain the Derek/Casey weirdness. But the fact remains – the bigger the family, the harder to keep a secret.

And the thought of a twenty-four hour subterfuge is too exhausting.

Cue another Casey conniption.

*****

You know how this ends, right? Or at least…how it’s supposed to end.

It’s not like this kind of stuff is a science. It’s way too wishy-washy, too ‘kids – the moral of the story is’, for logic and reasoning. That said, there’s a certain unspoken pattern you expect this kind of story to follow.

Eventually, Derek agrees to recite Casey’s lame-o poetry, while Casey commits to rocking out at Dimi’s birthday. This is stage one – reluctant compromise.

They spend a couple of days prepping each other for their roles –

“Once more,” Casey tells him, “with _feeling_.”

Derek, on the other hand, tends more towards, “Once more, with _attitude_.”

This is stage two – grudging cooperation.

When the time actually comes, Derek finds himself mumbling –

“‘Musings on Beauty’ – by Casey McDonald…me.  
‘The mischievous twinkle in a child’s eye,  
The crispness of new autumn leaves,  
The sweet, wholesome taste of apples –  
All these say ‘beauty’ to me.’”

But then he catches Nora’s eye on the sidelines, and something else (stage three – genuine compassion) enters the frame, and he stands up straight in Casey’s body and says every saccharine word, once more, with feeling.

The same goes for Casey, who ditches her lame and manages to inject some actual attitude into her performance, and rocks out…as much as anyone can rock out at a ten year old’s birthday party.

Derek gets there in time to catch the last number, feeling uncomfortably like he’s in drag (guess who insisted on the skirt?) and Casey looks up and meets his gaze and this thing – this spark of acknowledgement and something more, passes between them.

It’s classic stage four – empathy.

Everyone knows that that’s it – it has to be – the moment when everything snaps back to normal, the climax, the pinnacle.

Derek can practically feel it building and twisting in the air, and he knows that Casey’s feeling it too (another sign that this is It). He readies himself for the spin-cycle feeling, and the motion sickness that comes with it. There’s a sudden, mutual realization that the Davises are probably still going to hate him (and maybe Casey) for throwing up on their carpeted floor, but that’s a small price to pay for an about-face on the body-barter.

The ninety minutes are up.

So they wait, expectant, and…

…oh.

That...wasn’t supposed to not happen.


End file.
